


The Dawn of a New Day

by neosaiyanangel



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Canonically dead character lives and the ship lives happily ever after, F/M, Facial Shaving, Fluff and Angst, Hair Stuff - One character shaves another's face with a straight razor, Hurt/Comfort - Character with injured hands requires assistance, Jorah Mormont Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23888608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neosaiyanangel/pseuds/neosaiyanangel
Summary: Jorah wakes up, frantic to continue fighting to protect his Khaleesi. But instead of Wights, he finds furs and a soft bed.
Relationships: Jorah Mormont/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31
Collections: Id Pro Quo 2020





	The Dawn of a New Day

Jorah gasped himself awake. Adrenaline immediately began pumping as he rushed to find his sword.

The hoard! He had passed out in his Khalessi's arms. He'd left her undefended! How could he be so careless?! _And where was his sword_!? All he felt was furs and warmth around him when there should have been biting cold. His hands were almost like blocks of wood in their sensitivity to everything he touched.

Sense caught up with him as he slowly realized that he wasn't where he'd been before. Jorah wasn't lying, dying, on the ground in Winterfell. He was somewhere warm and comfortable. And his hands...he looked, gaze unfocused, at his hands. They were wrapped up in bandages.

Something had happened. Something had saved him. Jorah was certain he must have died. There was no other reason that he would have fallen trying to protect his Khaleesi. What had saved him he didn't know.

He laid there for a while, trying to mentally gather himself. The battle seemed to be over. They must have won; there was no chance the Night King would treat anyone, let alone Jorah, this well. Jorah wondered...how many of his comrades were dead? How many had survived? His heart pounded at that thought that by him falling as he had, Daenerys had also died.

That spurred him to get up. He couldn't move his hands in any form of delicate manipulation, but that wasn't necessary to simply wander about. Even so, if needed, he would use his apparently mangled hands to go wherever his Khalessi may be. He needed to protect her.

Jorah shoved his hand into the door latch and pulled. Thankfully, the door opened even with that little bit of force. He stumbled through the open door out into the air.

It was a chill dawn. The light was filtering down and sparkling off the snow around the complex, dazzling him from the second story he was on. It appeared he was in one of the main houses. He looked back, piecing it together, as he realized the room he'd been in had been very large and very warm with a roaring fireplace and other rich amenities. This would, _should_ , be the chamber of Daenerys herself.

"Ah! You're awake." Jorah turned, squinting. Ah. It was the small Stark girl. Arya, he thought was her name. It appeared he'd stumbled right into her path with his sudden exit from the room. She continued, "She's been on-edge and worried about you."

"She?" Jorah's heart pounded hard.

"Dany. She's been by your bedside most of the time since the battle! She even gave you her room."

Ah. That explained that.

"I must find my Khaleesi," Jorah mumbled, his breath sticking to his rough beard.

"No. No, you won't. What you NEED to do is go lay down. We don't know what's all wrong with you after that magic Dany used. It isn't like with Jon." She stared him down, sending a shiver down Jorah's spine. Her eyes were those of a cold killer. Earning her ire could be grim. But Daenerys was too important to let the Stark girl stop him. Seeming to read him perfectly, she sighed and murmured, "Get back to bed. I'll let her know as soon as I can that you're awake. I'm sure she would appreciate it."

He hesitated. "...Thank you." It wasn't worth the fight. Jorah turned and made his way back into the room.

"Hey." He looked over his shoulder. Arya was giving him an appraising look. After a few unnerving moments, she said, "You did a pretty good job during the battle. It would've been a shame to lose you like that. Glad you lived."

Jorah dryly chuckled. "I'm glad I lived too."

Jorah was roused from the light doze he'd gone into by the sound of the door opening carefully. He cracked an eyelid open.

" _Jorah_ …!" The sweet sound of his Khaleesi's voice woke him up completely. He got up stiffly, trying to appear put-together so she wouldn't worry. His blurry gaze registered her coming closer and reaching out. Her hand pushed him back into bed. "No. You must rest. Don't get up on my behalf. You've already sacrificed enough for me."

"As long as I draw breath, my life is yours to be used for whatever needs done," Jorah replied earnestly.

"Everything that needed done is done. Now is the time for you to recuperate," she replied. "You gave your life for me. I can ask no more than that."

The way she said it… "So, I did die."

"...Yes." Her voice wavered as she said, "I saved you. I don't know how exactly. Your hands…" she rested a hand on his. "They aren't frostbitten. They are burned."

"Burned…?" Jorah needed more than a moment to process that strange idea. "How?"

"I bathed in fire with you, and shed my blood to reheat yours." He wished he could clearly see her face. For some reason, his gaze was blurry with tears. "Your blood burns as a dragon does now." He let that sink in. Seeming to think that meant displeasure, his Khaleesi said regretfully, "There was no other way to save you, Jorah."

He swallowed. "Does that mean...that we're…?"

"We're bonded in a way others are not. My life is your life. When I die...I think...you will die too." She shook her head. "I don't know it for certain. I just... _feel_ it."

Jorah felt it too, deep in his gut. "I know what you feel, my Khaleesi. My life is now completely yours. I was, and am, nothing without you."

"Jorah." There was displeasure laced in her words. "Your life has more value than as a pawn in my schemes. You're far more important than that."

"All I want to be is your pawn, your knight." His remaining hand sandwiched Daenerys' hand in his own. "Please. I want to be of use to you."

She was quiet for a while. Finally she said, "...You will be of no use to me injured as you are. Recover, and rejoin my side." A thought seemed to occur to her. "I will tend to you, my knight."

"What?!" Jorah tried to get up again. "I'm below your attentions, my Khaleesi. You have far more important things to deal with!"

Daenerys leaned in. Now he could see her face was streaked with tears. "I will not risk losing you again to any kind of incompetence. No, I will take your life in my hands, as you did mine in the battle. And as you did, I will make sure you live." She pulled her hand away and rested it against his rough cheek. "Now rest, my dearest Jorah. I will tend to you until you can once again stand next to my right."

Almost as if a spell was cast, Jorah felt himself dozing off. He tried to fight it. There was so much he wanted to say.

He wanted to confess his feelings out in the open.

He wanted to assure her he would never leave her.

He wanted to continue their conquest of Westeros so she could assume her rightful place on the throne.

He wanted to make her _happy_.

With all his struggles, he failed, sleep taking him once more.

As she had promised, his Khaleesi was his main caretaker. There were some bits of dirtier work that she didn't need to tend to, that were too below her to be her concern. Yet she still did them. Emptying his bedpan. Washing him. Tending to the somehow not festering wounds all along his body.

His hands, he'd seen, were strangely rough now even beyond the burns. Almost...scaly. His fingernails had fallen off, too. Jorah half-expected them to grow back as talons. It would certainly fit. If there was any comment on it Daenerys kept it to herself, tending to them as carefully as she could.

Now, his hands worked well enough that he could bend his fingers. Thus he was trying to tend to a bit of grooming that had been left neglected. In the beautiful suite that his Khaleesi had given to him against his complaints, he arranged the standing mirror in a way to best help him with the initial strokes. Once he was satisfied, he gripped the blade in his hand as best he could. Looking in the mirror, he couldn't decide where to start.

His normally barely tended scruff had evolved into a full, monstrous bush that swallowed his entire face. It was almost embarrassing, to be unable to keep himself groomed as he normally did. Thus he got to it as soon as he felt able to.

He was being as careful as he could be when he placed the blade against the hair. To his annoyance, his fingers slipped, the blade cutting shallowly into his skin. He didn't even manage to take off any hair as he pulled his hand away to examine the cut.

It was a clean slice. It would easily heal.

Unconcerned, Jorah tried again to carefully place the blade against his skin to drag it and cut some of the beard away. His shaking hand unevenly cut off a small swathe of hair. The uneven locks fell to the ground. Even with as little as it was, Jorah felt some satisfaction at the fact that he was able to do it himself.

"What are you doing!?" Jorah hadn't noticed the door open. But he didn't jump at the voice. Somehow he just _knew_ she was there. His Khaleesi, as he saw in the mirror, looked shocked, her mouth open in horror.

"I am shaving myself, my Khaleesi," Jorah replied, pausing with the blade an inch from his skin.

"You should have _said something_ about it instead of hurting yourself trying to do it yourself!" she said, swiftly closing the door behind her and rushing to his side. "I can see the slice in your skin from all the way over here!"

"It is nothing," Jorah reassured her. "I"

"No. You will stop what you are doing _at once_. You are in _no_ condition to handle a blade like that with the dexterity needed to not hurt yourself." Jorah didn't resist as she snatched the blade from his hands. "I will shave you."

"That is beneath you!" Jorah complained. It truly was, just as everything else was beneath her. He didn't deserve her tendings.

"You are my knight, Ser Jorah. You _are_ worth it." Somehow, it felt like she was replying to his thoughts instead of his words. "Here." She waved at him to sit in the chair near the fireplace. "Sit, and I will tend to you."

Jorah wanted to protest more but found that he simply couldn't. He knew the breath would be wasted. So he simply decided to listen and follow her instructions.

He sat as still as he could as she held the knife in her hands. There was no question that she knew how to shave a man. They didn't say it, but he knew that she'd learned when the witch had put Khal Drogo into his wakeless sleep. Before she had to put him out of his misery.

She started then. The blade was deftly slid down his cheek. The hair was cleanly removed in one stroke. His Khaleesi removed the hair from the blade and, in one clump, tossed it into the fire. This continued across his face, from one ear to the other. She was strangely skillful in her tendings. The closeness made Jorah's breath hitch. The scent of her was strong, and it was doing irritating things to him that he couldn't do anything about.

"Lift your head," she commanded.

He complied, lifting his head so she had clear access to his neck. The blade against his neck instinctively made his heart begin to pound. There was a reason he always shaved himself. He didn't trust anyone else to do it. Jorah calmed himself with the soothing thought that it was _his Khaleesi_ shaving him. She would never do anything to harm him.

His heart steadied as the shaving continued. The intimacy of it all was too much. Daenerys was so close, and so beautiful, and _so giving_ …

It was when she had just pulled the blade away that he did it. Without thinking about it, he reached his head up and stole a kiss from his queen. The heat in his blood felt like it would boil over as he fell back into the chair.

It was still for a moment. That was how long it took for Jorah to regain himself.

_What had he done_?

"Daenerys! I, I apologize. I was…" He looked away shamefully. There was a consideration of prostrating himself, but he felt too much shame and pride to do that. Instead, he simply sat and waited for the punishment.

To his surprise, she gently grabbed his chin and tilted his face back up to look at her. Her expression was unreadable, though still somewhat gentle. "I need to finish shaving you."

"Of, of course, my Khaleesi," Jorah muttered apologetically. He resumed his previous position, now not daring to even risk disobeying her.

It was a heart-pounding several minutes later that saw her finish.

"Now then, that was not as bad as you thought it would be, yes?" She had the air of a victor after a long-fought battle.

Carefully he replied, "Yes, my queen. You did everything correctly."

There was a strange pause. Daenerys then said, "You need to go back to bed now. I'm sure that got your heart racing quite a bit."

He didn't ask _which_ part. Instead, he vaguely nodded and said, "I shall do as you ask."

"Good." She again paused. Then, suddenly, she bent down and gave his cheek a soft kiss. Pulling back, she murmured, "Rest, my dear knight. We shall talk more of our future tomorrow."

That phrasing struck him like a brick to the head. Dazedly he again nodded. She walked to the door as he laid down on the bed.

"Oh yes." He looked back over to her just as he arranged the furs around himself. A curious smile danced on her lips. "Since you seem to be getting back to your lively self, you will be attending the next strategy meeting with me tomorrow, in the afternoon. Cersei and her forces still need dealt with before the worst of winter hits."

"As you command, my Khaleesi."

She nodded at his acceptance before closing the door behind her.

Jorah fell back against the bed and nearly wept. She didn't...and she said... _their future_ …!

He didn't care what would happen next. All he cared about was staying by his queen's side as long as she lived.


End file.
